


i would even learn how to love like you

by spicyboyfriend



Series: catch me when i fall [2]
Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, There's No Point To This, There's no plot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, basically just a lot of fluff okay i just, hwitaek rlly loves hyojong and i WANTED TO WRITE IT, is there a fluff without plot tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9637292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyboyfriend/pseuds/spicyboyfriend
Summary: That was how Hwitaek found himself on a personal mission (Mission: Look at Hyojong as much as possible— sounded kinda creepy, but he meant it with love, he swore!) to make Hyojong more comfortable with how Hwitaek looked at him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jinhoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinhoes/gifts).



> i wrote this in like two days pls forgive me. posting without editing bc we die like men
> 
> gifted to chase the loml bc i made them suffer for a day nd this is my repayment ilysm chase ur v important i hope u like it hope ur feeling better ♥♥♥ EVEN THO U DIDNT ASK FOR IT and im basically jus,,, forcing this fic on u odg if u dont want it i'll take ur name off but like,,, for now its all urs (also tell me what u want me to write u for ur birthday chase wtf)
> 
> title from [love like you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clJk8a5q1Lo) by rebecca sugar from the steven universe soundtrack. because im trash and i love sweet shit ok.

The soft, overwhelmingly comforting warmth of the blanket wrapped around his shoulders made Hwitaek sigh softly, his body completely relaxed as he rolled over on the bed and found Hyojong still folding clothes in the living room, barely able to catch sight of him on the couch as he folded a shirt and set it down on the arm of the chair.

Hwitaek still couldn’t believe it— the fact that he had moved in with Hyojong, he meant. Of course, it wasn’t immediate. In fact, Hwitaek was the  _ most  _ hesitant to agree to moving in with him, after Hyojong had suggested it a total of six (almost couldn’t count it on both hands) times, after six months of being together again. 

Hwitaek denied it without hesitation, said that it was too early for them to even  _ think  _ about moving in together. Hyojong, at first, was upset, a little hurt by the fact that Hwitaek was so openly adamant about moving in with him. They argued once or twice, Hwitaek almost too embarrassed to admit that he still felt guilty about the cheating incident, felt that he didn’t deserve the chance to move in with Hyojong after everything that he had done.

They made up, and Hyojong would ask again, and Hwitaek would deny again. That happened a total of three times, before Hwitaek broke down and admitted he was still plagued by what had happened. Hyojong let it slide, apologized for pressing so much without thinking about Hwitaek’s feelings in all of it, and didn’t ask until a few months later. Hwitaek denied again, and Hyojong asked again another month later, and Hwitaek denied it again.

Hwitaek thought Hyojong had given up on it. He didn’t ask again, didn’t mention it in passing moments when Hwitaek was over for dinner, or while they were snuggled up on the couch, watching movies and sharing warmth as Wooseok returned with Sunja, the puppy from the side of the road. It was fine, after six more months, making it a full year of being together again. Hwitaek had been thinking more and more about moving in with Hyojong, but was too afraid to bring it up. What if Hyojong rejected him just like he had done so many times? Of course, Hyojong wasn’t that petty, to just reject Hwitaek because he had done it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Hui!” Hyojong shouted from the living room, breaking Hwitaek’s string of thoughts as he jumped and let out a hum of acknowledgment. Hyojong lifted up a pair of briefs. “Are these mine or yours?”

Squinting, Hwitaek shrugged, making Hyojong groan before moving from the couch and carrying a pile of clothes towards the room, basket held against his hip with his other hand as he set it down and threw the bunched up pair of underwear in Hwitaek’s face.

“Why did you have to wear the same underwear I do?”

“We’re just meant to be.” Hwitaek said before lifting up the pair of briefs and squinting at the tag. “These are yours, the tags are more worn down than mine are, remember? I bought new ones a month ago or something.”

“Oh yeah!” Hyojong said, catching them when Hwitaek tossed them in his direction and lazily folding them as he stuffed them away in his dresser.  _ “This _ is why you need to help me with laundry.”

“But I don’t wanna.” Hwitaek mumbled, nuzzling in closers with the blankets and bunching them around his nose. Sometimes he missed Hyojong’s scent overwhelming him in quiet moments. He had been there for so long that he was used to it by that point, his cologne and musk and the way his blankets faintly smelled of detergent and fabric softener every few weeks. “Besides, I thought the agreement was I do dishes, you do laundry?”

“The agreement is you get to stay cozy in bed and look cute while I do chores.” Hyojong said, leaning over and stuffing away more clothes in the dresser. Hwitaek hummed and watched Hyojong stand back up, cracking his back with a small noise of contentment, then stretching his arms over his head. Hwitaek traced his eyes over the dark, blue black tone of his hair, how it shined even under the dim lighting of his room. It was far healthier than it had been when he had it bleached blonde, and even more than when he had dyed it brown shortly after they took their break.

For a moment, with the silence, Hwitaek felt like he had forgotten how to breathe properly. Hyojong wasn’t dressed in anything particularly nice— just a pair of green gingham boxers and a white t-shirt. He hadn’t shaved in two days (claiming it was his one luxury when he had two days off in a row, a rarity in and of itself), so Hyojong had slight stubble decorating his jawline and along the bottom of his chin, barely noticeable, but Hwitaek could still see it.

“You’re doing it again.” Hyojong said. Hwitaek let out a soft noise of acknowledgment. “You’re staring.”

“Sorry.”

“You’ve been doing it a lot.” Hyojong continued. “Something on your mind?”

“Not really.” Hwitaek said, rolling over on the bed and burying his face in the pillows, taking a long deep breath in before relaxing. “Am I not allowed to stare?”

“Oh, shut up.” Hyojong said, the sound of his voice coming closer catching Hwitaek off guard before the bed dipped slightly, following by Hyojong shoving him over and slipping under the blanket to nuzzle in close. Hwitaek could still smell dinner and the few drinks he’d had at dinner on his breath, subtle, slightly sweet. “You know that’s not what I was getting at.”

Hwitaek nodded, turning over and finding Hyojong facing him, eyes half lidded and cheeks pink with embarrassment. Lifting his hand from his side, Hwitaek curved his palm over the soft plushness of Hyojong’s cheek, feeling the warmth naturally radiating off of his skin.

“Sometimes,” Hyojong began softly, nearly stuttering over the single word, “when you look at me like that, I remember when... you asked me if I was ever afraid.”

It took Hwitaek a moment to process, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched as if he didn’t understand just what it was he was getting at. Hyojong let out a soft breath.

“When you asked if I was afraid to come out. Before all that stuff happened.”

Hwitaek’s heart paused in his chest, breath knocked back in his lungs like a punch to his chest as his eyes widened.

“I don’t think ‘bout it a lot.” Hyojong said, voice barely heard over Hwitaek’s suddenly pounding heartbeat. “Don’t freak out. I know you’re already freaking out. I remember it sometimes, when you look at me like that.”

Hwitaek bit his bottom lip. “Are you scared that I’d do it again?”

“Cheat?”

“Yeah.”

Hyojong paused, then shook his head. “No, I know you wouldn’t.” Hyojong laced his fingers with Hwitaek’s own, squeezing affectionately and lifting the back of his hand to his lips. The kiss he pressed to his skin was soft and fleeting, love clearly laced in with the action as Hwitaek swallowed thickly and watched Hyojong relax into the sheets. “I just remember how much it hurt.”

“I’m still sorry.” Hwitaek tucked a piece of hair behind Hyojong’s ear with his free hand. “I’m always sorry for the stupid shit I did.”

“It’s okay.” Hyojong sighed, melting into the sheets and blankets. 

Wooseok came out of his room, glancing down the hall and then towards Hyojong’s room. His cheeks flushed, and he instinctively rushed to close the door so he didn’t have to see Hyojong and Hwitaek be affectionate together, as he claimed it was “weird” to see his hyungs so personal together (not that he didn’t approve of their relationship, just that he was a  _ kid  _ and still saw their affection the way a kid would. Hwitaek couldn’t count on both hands how many times Wooseok had caught them kissing in the kitchen or on the couch, only for him to whine,  _ “Gross, hyungs, I live here too, you know!”). _

“‘M tired. Gonna sleep.” Hyojong warned, as if Hwitaek hadn’t seen that coming from a mile away. Still, Hwitaek nodded and pulled Hyojong into his chest, squeezing tightly and stopping only when Hyojong mumbled something about needing to breathe.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The next morning, Hwitaek woke up to find Hyojong strewn out on the bed, legs lazily crossed with the blankets messily thrown over his body in a haphazard pile of sleep induced mania. Hyojong was always a messy sleeper, liked to kick Hwitaek off the bed on more than one occasion, though recently, he started cuddling Hwitaek instead of blatantly shoving him off the bed, so that was nice.

Hwitaek sat up, turned to glance at Hyojong and found himself staring yet again. Hyojong had a little mess of drool in the corner of his lips, eyes lazily shut as he took a deep breath in and snored. Sleeping Beauty had nothing on Hyojong in his natural state, Hwitaek thought stupidly as he leaned over and lifted his hand to Hyojong’s cheek, patting it slightly as Hyojong grumbled and tried to push him away.

“Jongie, you have work in two hours. Gotta get up, baby.” Hwitaek sang softly, Hyojong shaking his head and pulling the covers over his face. Hwitaek snorted and moved to straddle his hips, leaning over his body and resting his chin on Hyojong’s chest. “C’mon, my Dawnie, you’ve gotta shower at least.”

“Are you saying I stink?” Hyojong replied sleepily, voice muffled by the blanket.

Hwitaek grinned. “Far from roses.”

“That’s my line.” Hyojong made a sloppy swat towards Hwitaek’s face, pushing him away with a grumble. “Lemme sleep.”

“Are you hungover?” Hwitaek said. Hyojong made a quiet, sheepish noise of affirmation. “Wow, you really can’t hold your alcohol well, can you?”

“Says the lush.” Hyojong said, voice muffled by the blanket as Hwitaek pinched his side with a grimace.

“I’m not a lush!”

“It was a joke. Be easy on me, please. I don’t even remember getting in bed last night.”

Hwitaek quirked a brow and cocked his head. “Really?”

“I remember... sitting on the couch after dinner?” Hyojong said, turning back over to look at Hwitaek for confirmation. He nodded. “Yeah. That’s all.”

_ “Wow.”  _ Hwitaek said, Hyojong rolling his eyes and playfully shoving the other. “I thought you were kidding.”

“I’m such a lightweight, it hurts.”

Hwitaek moved to push Hyojong’s hair away from his face, leaning over his body and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Do you need some aspirin?”

_ “Please. _ My head feels like it’s gonna explode.”

“Drama queen.”

“And all yours.” Hyojong said as Hwitaek rolled off of the bed and walked down the hall, Wooseok already out of bed and brushing his teeth as he waved at Hwitaek. He didn’t have classes until later in the day, which Hwitaek normally drove him to. Sometimes, if he didn’t have any errands to run (and he was feeling lazy), Hwitaek would let Wooseok take the car, as long as he didn’t tell Hyojong (who was still overprotective and fussy to a T). Sunja came sprinting out of Wooseok’s room, yipping and nipping at Hwitaek’s ankles, as she did every single time she saw him. Apparently that was her special way of greeting him (though Hwitaek always had a suspicion that she just didn’t like him, but that was besides the point).

When Hwitaek returned to the bedroom, Hyojong was curled up in a ball underneath all the covers, complaining about how loud Sunja was as Hwitaek nudged the door shut behind him and walked to the side of the bed with aspiring and water in hand.

“Ugh, can you just take the aspirin  _ for  _ me?”

“Oh, c’mon.” Hwitaek kneed the side of the bed and made Hyojong sit up, tipping the glass of water to his lips before setting it down on the side table beside their bed. “Remind me to never let you drink again.”

“Gladly. Why did I drink last night anyway?”

“You said, and I quote, “I can handle liquor better than  _ anyone  _ you know, Hui,” and then proceeded to drink more than you should’ve.”

“Was I right, or was I wrong?”

“You were pretty wrong.” Hwitaek said quickly with a snorting laugh, moving to sit down in Hyojong’s lap as he pushed his scruffy hair away from his face. “You gotta shower. I can make breakfast while you do that.”

“Don’t wanna.” Hyojong pouted, moving to settle his hands on Hwitaek’s waist. “Work is overrated anyway.”

“Jongie.” Hwitaek chided. Hyojong sighed and let his body go limp, leaning back on the headboard of the bed with a whine.

“Ugh, I know. I just really don’t wanna go into work today.”

Hwitaek pursed his lips. “Want me to call in for you? I’ll say you’ve got deathly food poisoning or something.”

“I don’t want them to think I’m  _ dying.” _ Hyojong grinned. “Just don’t feel like going in and dealing with people.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” Hwitaek said, though the moment those words left his lips, he knew just from the look in Hyojong’s eyes. He made a move to weakly slap Hyojong’s chest, jaw slack as he let out an incredulous noise. “You’re not allowed to be a pervert this early in the morning.”

“There’s a time limit on when to be a pervert?”

“Yes.” Hwitaek counted on his fingers. “On weekdays, you’re allowed from 6pm to 1am, and on weekends, 5pm to 3am.”

“Wow.” Hyojong said. “You are such a loser.”

Hwitaek pinched his side again, earning a noise of protest as Hyojong swatted at his hand. From there, the play fighting escalated, Hwitaek jokingly pushing Hyojong against the headboard while Hyojong shoved him off of his lap and onto his back. He ghosted his fingers over Hwitaek’s sides, threatening to tickle him as Hwitaek practically curled in on himself and held both of his hands up in surrender.

“Now that we’ve thoroughly wasted a half hour screwing around, you really do have to shower.” Hwitaek said. Hyojong slumped over and buried his face in the crook of Hwitaek’s neck, breath hot against his skin as he shook his head and denied his responsibilities again. Hwitaek involuntarily shivered, tangling his fingers in with Hyojong’s hair and tugging slightly.

“That’s not fair.” Hyojong mumbled against his throat, nipping lightly and earning a sharp inhale from Hwitaek in response. “You know I like that.”

Hyojong pulled away, cheeks flushed red with excitement. Hwitaek cupped his cheek with his other free hand, Hyojong blushing even darker.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Hwitaek said. Hyojong visibly perked, like a puppy that just heard the word, “treat,” with the same excitement in his eyes and all. “If you promise you won’t be late to work... then we can make it quick.”

“You know I like to take my time on you, though.” Hyojong said. Hwitaek flicked Hyojong in the middle of his forehead.

_ “Quick.” _

Hyojong nodded excitedly, rushing to the door and locking it before jumping back onto the bed and practically pouncing on Hwitaek. He smothered him with kisses, apologized each time because neither of them had brushed their teeth yet, but couldn’t bring themselves to care either. Hwitaek flipped Hyojong over, pushed him down on his back and took a moment to take in the sight of his embarrassment stained expression, apples of his cheeks dusted pink as his fingers curled under the hem of his t-shirt and pushed it upwards to reveal his soft stomach, only enough to make Hwitaek smile slyly.

“I love you.” Hwitaek said, setting his palms down over Hyojong’s own.

“Love you too.” Hyojong squirmed slightly, hips rising off of the bed as Hwitaek slipped his hands under the band of his boxers, curving his palms around Hyojong’s ass and squeezing appreciatively. The slightest of touches sent Hyojong’s heart racing, biting down on his bottom lip as Hwitaek leaned in and pressed a kiss to both corners of his lips. “H-hurry up.”

“In a rush?”

“You’re the one that said we have to make it quick.” Hyojong whimpered at the loss of warmth as Hwitaek pulled his hands out from his boxers. Hyojong bit the inside of his cheek. “And you’re staring.”

Hwitaek slid his hands along Hyojong’s arm’s, moving them from his torso and pinning them above his head instead.

“Because I like looking at you.” Hwitaek replied easily. “Is it so wrong for me to like looking at you?”

“It’s... just... intimate.” Hyojong said, suddenly quiet and sheepish.

“Are we not on intimate terms?” Hwitaek said, pulling away. “Are you a complete stranger to me, Kim Hyojong-ssi? Should I excuse myself?”

“Changed my mind.” Hyojong pulled Hwitaek closer by hooking his legs around his hips, nearly knocking him off his balance and falling forward. “We’re definitely intimate. I don’t mind when you stare.”

Hwitaek grinned and leaned over, caught Hyojong’s lips between his own and set his hand on the side of his neck. They stayed like that for a little longer than they should have, just kissing and knocking one another on their back before taking off their shirts, knocking each other back again, followed by their underwear, and again when Hyojong insisted on taking care of Hwitaek first.

Hyojong ended up being late to work anyway.

  
  
  
  
  
  


That was how Hwitaek found himself on a personal mission  _ (Mission: Look at Hyojong as much as possible— _ sounded kinda creepy, but he meant it with love, he swore!) to make Hyojong more comfortable with how Hwitaek looked at him. 

It started off small, only in casual moments where Hyojong could just brush it off or tell Hwitaek to stop staring. On more than one occasion, Hyojong had caught him while they were watching movies, Hwitaek lovingly running his fingers through his dark hair and pressing kisses to the crown of his head before Hyojong looked up and squinted at him  _ (“Awfully touchy today, aren’t you?” “Didn’t even realize, sorry!”).  _ It was easy to play it off as an accident once or twice, maybe three times if Hyojong hadn’t caught him after a few minutes.

But Hwitaek couldn’t always be subtle, and honestly, most of the time he hardly caught himself staring. It was always Hyojong that caught him, chided him for being “greasy” or “embarrassing” like he always did, even though Hwitaek always argued that it was normal for him to look at Hyojong this way.

Hyojong had to go grocery shopping after working a particularly long shift at work. Hwitaek offered to go for him, said that he wanted Hyojong to stay home and rest, but in the end, half-lost that battle, and ended up accompanying Hyojong to the store. 

They walked side by side, Hwitaek letting his pinkie finger nudge Hyojong’s own every now and again. Sometimes they were shameless with affection, holding hands and hugging, Hyojong sometimes snaking his arms around his waist and holding him close, but shopping together wasn’t particularly romantic, so this time they just ambled along together, Hyojong stopping every now and again to toss in a few things in the cart. He stopped to cross something off of a list he pulled out from his pocket, then tucked it away and gestured for Hwitaek to follow him again.

“Hey, did you like that new recipe I tried last week?”

“You mean the recipe you ended up burning for dinner?” Hwitaek said, Hyojong knocking his hip against Hwitaek’s own and frowning.

“Yes, that one. And shut up, you guys weren’t being any help at all.”

“Wooseok and I had business to take care of.”

“You were  _ screaming  _ in the living room over Mario Kart.”

“Wooseok blue-shelled me  _ right  _ after Yoshi blue-shelled me!” Hwitaek replied defensively. “I dropped to ninth place because of that!”

Hyojong rolled his eyes, albeit affectionately, and walked along the aisle, still pushing the cart in front of him with a calm steadiness as he beared down on the cart with his weight. Hwitaek followed closely, picking up a few things he wanted, only for Hyojong to click his tongue at as he scrunched his nose up. “Banana milk?”

“You know I like banana milk.” Hwitaek said.

“You got banana milk last week though.” Hyojong stopped the cart, turning to Hwitaek and holding his fist out. “Rock, paper, scissors. I want strawberry milk!”

Hwitaek smiled, holding his own fist out and watching as Hyojong let his tongue barely poke past the soft pink of his lips, concentration painted on his face before he lifted his fist up and recited the usual, “rock, paper, scissors!” chant.

Hwitaek won the first time with scissors against paper, because he always knew that Hyojong threw paper the first time. It was either a bad habit or a lucky charm of Hyojong’s, but either way, Hwitaek had caught onto it a long time ago. Now that Hyojong had lost the first round, he’d throw down rock, and Hwitaek would win by throwing down paper.

But... Hwitaek stopped for a moment as Hyojong challenged him to best 2-out-of-3 chances, his lips wet as he swept his tongue across his bottom lip again and then bit the inside of his cheek. Leave it to Hyojong to make the simple task of playing rock, paper, scissors oddly adorable, just enough for Hwitaek to want to reach out and pinch his cheeks or something like that.

Hyojong was definitely going to throw down rock by the look on his face.

And Hwitaek— well, Hwitaek was just weak enough to give in, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he threw down scissors again, and as he predicted, Hyojong beat him by throwing down rock.

“One more!” Hyojong said, Hwitaek nodding and watching as he threw the gesture for rock, and Hyojong returned to his trusty (falsely lucky) paper gesture, throwing his hand over Hwitaek’s fist and grinning widely. “You lost, Hui. Strawberry milk this time!” Hyojong paused and pursed his lips suspiciously. “And you’re staring  _ again.” _

“No I’m not.” Hwitaek feigned a sigh of disappointment, reaching into the basket and setting the carton back on the shelf. “I guess we just have to get strawberry milk since you won. But next time, we get banana milk.”

“Maybe we’ll have to play rock, paper, scissors each time. That way I can get strawberry milk every time.”

Hwitaek let out a snort of laughter, messing with Hyojong’s hair and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before walking off and leaving him in a quiet, stunned stupor. Hyojong easily followed Hwitaek around the store, picking up whatever else it was they needed in the first place.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The apartment was alive with raucous laughter, clinks of glasses and drunken fits of giggles as Hwitaek stared in from the kitchen, resting his chin in his hand. He had decided not to join the others in their drinking escapades, and instead stayed as the designated driver for the night. Hyojong, even though he had said only a week earlier that he wouldn’t drink so heavily again, was already on his sixth shot of soju, and his third can of beer. Apparently Hongseok calling Hyojong and lightweight didn’t sit well with him, and he took it as his personal responsibility to show Hongseok that he was  _ wrong.  _

(Hongseok wasn’t wrong though— Hyojong was already messy and disheveled, sitting only in a white tank top and his jeans while grumbling about how hot it was in the apartment, while Hongseok was still perfectly capable of carrying on a coherent conversation with a slightly tipsy Jinho.)

Even Wooseok and Yuto had joined in on the festivities, with the promise that Yuto would stay the night (which the two quickly agreed to without much protest, other than Wooseok offering to give his bed up for Yuto, who said they would fit just fine together). Hwitaek had invited Hyunggu along, the younger getting along well enough with Hyojong to where he felt comfortable sticking around, and he had gotten Shinwon to come with, albeit begrudgingly  _ (“I only did it for Hyunggu, I don’t really care about drinking all that much anyway!”). _

“Look at you.” Hyunggu remarked as he walked into the kitchen carrying empty bottles of soju and crushed cans of shotgunned beer cans.

“What?” Hwitaek replied innocently.

“You might as well be throwing hearts at him, hyung.” Hyunggu said with a quiet laugh, tossing the trash away and turning to Hwitaek as he leaned against the counter. “How does it feel?”

“To get called out by someone younger than me? Pretty terrible.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Hyunggu replied with a slight pout, scooting towards Hwitaek and leaning on the counter he stood beside, mimicking his position and sighing. “Knowing you love him, is what I meant.”

“I knew I loved him a long time ago.” Hwitaek said, voice nearly drowned out by a loud shout from Shinwon, followed by laughter from Changgu, who nearly fell over in Yan An’s lap from how hard he was laughing. Pretty soon Hwitaek would have to intervene and take the alcohol before they got too drunk to stand, and they’d all have to have an unplanned sleepover in the living room of their apartment. Thankfully, Jinho was still sober enough to set his hand on Hongseok’s drinks when he thought he was having too much, to which Hongseok easily complied and boasted about what a loving and caring hyung he had. It was simultaneously the most disgusting, yet sweetest display of affection Hwitaek had seen between the two, who typically avoided that sort of thing in front of the others.

Hyunggu sighed again, this time almost dreamily. “You look at him with this intense love in your eyes, hyung. Do you realize you do that?”

“Most of the time I don’t.” Hwitaek said softly. “But he’s always calling me out on it. He says it’s embarrassing or something.”

“Well, pot calling the kettle black.” Hyunggu snorted. “All he’s been talking about is you all night. Seriously, I think we could make a drinking game out of how often he mentions your name. Hwitaek this, Hwitaek that. You’re so sappy, it’s gross.”

_ “You’re  _ gross.” Hwitaek commented with a pinch to Hyunggu’s shoulder. The soft expression on Hyunggu’s face caught him off guard, face pink and eyes bright with a fondness unlike any other Hwitaek had seen in his life. “Jeez, get that look off your face.”

“It’s just....” Hyunggu shrugged, let his shoulders slump slightly with his first words before he stood up straight and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s really nice to see the two of you happy. Together or not, y’know. I’m glad he makes you happy like that.”

Hwitaek parted his lips to speak again, heart knotted tightly in his chest at the sight of Hyunggu’s pink cheeked confession. Before he could get a word in edgewise, a loud shouting contest erupted from the living room, Hyojong stumbling inside of the kitchen carrying three empty beer cans and nearly tripping over his own two feet. Hwitaek caught Hyojong by his arms, holding him upright as Hyunggu took the empty cans.

“You’re so sweet ‘ta me, Hyun~ggu~yah.” Hyojong sang, pinching Hyunggu’s cheek and giving him a chaste kiss on the same spot. Hwitaek grinned and pushed Hyojong’s hair away from his face.

“You think you’ve had enough to drink yet?”

“No—  _ hic!—  _ way, Hui. The others aren’t even drunk yet.”

“I think the others are getting sleepy too, baby.” Hwitaek said, leaning Hyojong against the counter and standing him upright so he could get his bearings. “Maybe it’s time to say good night, hm?”

“Maybe, maybe.” Hyojong said, pinching Hwitaek’s nose and shaking his head back and forth. “You gotta go to bed  _ with  _ me though!”

“I gotta drive them home first.” Hwitaek said, Hyunggu lifting his hand and shaking his head.

“I can do it, hyung. I haven’t had a drop, so I’m good to drive.”

“Ah, but all of them?” Hwitaek gestured to the living room, where Changgu was lazily strewn in Yan An’s lap as Yan An ran his fingers through his hair, and Hongseok and Jinho were both stumbling to their feet, Jinho nearly tripping over his own and giggling loudly when Hongseok caught him by his waist and stood him up straight. Shinwon was already trudging into the kitchen, holding his head and mumbling about the inevitable headache he would have in the morning from drinking cheap alcohol. Hyunggu reached over and rubbed his back in small circles. “You should just get yourself home first, Hyunggu-yah. You and Shinwon.”

“I can take them all home!” Hyunggu waved his hand with nonchalance. “Get Hyojong in bed before he thinks about shotgunning more beer.” Hyunggu held back a stifled giggle when Hyojong’s eyes crossed for a moment, straightening himself and standing up properly. Even using both hands to hold himself, Hyojong was leaning slightly, face red and hair a mess. Hwitaek’s heart softened at the sight, biting back more protests as he lifted Hyojong’s arm over his shoulder and looked at Hyunggu.

“Thank you, really.” Hwitaek paused and grinned. “You’re a blessing.”

“I know I am.” Hyunggu winked, nudging Shinwon in the direction of the living room again, telling him to round them all up and head downstairs to the car. Wooseok and Yuto collapsed on the couch, unable to move even the few extra yards to Wooseok’s room as Yuto began to snore, resting his head on Wooseok’s shoulder and mumbling something about how much he liked sitting like that with him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Morning light poured into Hwitaek’s and Hyojong’s room, seeping in through the blinds and licking at the bottom of the bed as Hwitaek grumbled quietly and turned over, only to find Hyojong tucked neatly into his side. His hair was even worse than it had been the night before, tangled and messy and in definite need of a wash, but Hwitaek couldn’t resist the urge to run his fingers through it nevertheless. Hyojong hardly roused from his hangover induced coma, even moving in closer to Hwitaek’s side and tugging on his shirt.

Hwitaek knew Hyojong would inevitably be complaining about the awful pain in his head from drinking too much the night before. Thankfully, he only had a short shift, and it wasn’t until later in the day, so he could laze around the house for a few hours before he even had to think about work. The warmth of the bed kept Hwitaek bound to his spot, pulling Hyojong even closer to his body and earning a small groan of protest.

“Did I wake you up, Dawnie?” Hwitaek whispered. Hyojong shook his head. “How you feeling?”

“Like a circus of animals just stampeded all over my head. And my body. But mainly my head. Maybe the clowns joined in on it too.” Hyojong croaked. His voice was barely louder than the ambient noise of the apartment, the faint sound of water running in the hall that made Hwitaek wonder if it was Yuto or Wooseok showering this early in the morning.

“I’ll get you some aspirin. You can stay in bed and sleep a little more.”

Hyojong shook his head again, holding onto Hwitaek’s arm and keeping him close on the bed beside him.

“Stay here for a little.” Hyojong said, more of a question than it was an order, but Hwitaek treated it as one and nodded nevertheless. Taking a moment to appreciate the lazy softness in Hyojong’s expression, Hwitaek smiled and pressed a kiss to Hyojong’s forehead. “Thanks for letting me drink again, even though I said not to.”

“You’re a cute drunk, so it’s okay.” Hwitaek said, feeling Hyojong pinch his stomach in protest. “You’re not like me, a stupid, emotional drunk.”

“You’re cute all the time, it makes up for it.” Hyojong grumbled, peering one eye open and shielding his face from the morning light spilling in through the window He glanced at Hwitaek, a slight frown immediately tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re staring again.”

Hwitaek wondered what ran through Hyojong’s mind when he said that kind of thing. Did he feel anxious when Hwitaek stared at him that way, so shamelessly and utterly in love with the way Hyojong made his heart feel content in his chest? He mentioned being reminded of what had happened, that it still bothered him every now and again, but... Hwitaek couldn’t bring himself to stop either.

“You don’t like it when I look at you like that.” Hwitaek said. Hyojong tensed, breath skipping for a moment before he shook his head.

“It’s not that.”

“You told me you don’t like it.” Hwitaek continued.

“I... didn’t.” Hyojong mumbled. “It scared me, but... you’ve been doing it so much lately, it’s all I can think about.”

Hwitaek hummed and pulled away, just enough to catch the expression on Hyojong’s face.

“I think it just made me uncomfortable at first because I’m not used to getting all that attention.” Hyojong said softly. “You know. I’m usually the one that... gives.”

“You are.” Hwitaek agreed. “You give too much.”

“I don’t.” Hyojong said.

“You  _ do.” _

Hwitaek nuzzled his face closer to Hyojong’s, pressing his lips to his forehead again and catching the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of Hyojong’s lips.

“You know, when I look at you like that, I don’t want you to feel scared or upset.” Hwitaek ignored his own ridiculous pulse thudding in his ears, and opted to focus only on Hyojong, only on how Hyojong was reacting. “Every time you catch me looking at you like that, it’s... because I love you a lot.”

“You tell me you love me all the time, though.” Hyojong protested.

“Different love.” Hwitaek said, pausing and biting his lip. “I’ll stop if you really want me to.”

Hyojong took a moment to think, voice trapped in his chest as he shook his head and tightened his grip on Hwitaek’s shirt.

“I don’t get scared when you look at me like that anymore.”

Hwitaek nodded, unsure of what else to say. Maybe there wasn’t anything else to say, really. Just that he was glad Hyojong wasn’t afraid anymore? That Hyojong could trust him, maybe even a little bit more than he had before? Even that felt like an understatement. All he could think of saying, as pathetic and simple as it seemed, was, “I love you.”

But Hwitaek didn’t say it. Instead, he slipped out of bed, and grabbed Hyojong aspirin and a glass of water. Sunja yipped and nipped at his ankles, as she always did in the morning. The growing suspicion that she didn’t like Hwitaek was no longer just a suspicion, but a full blown confirmation when she stopped to growl and pounce at his feet. Wooseok chided her, waving at Hwitaek as the bathroom door opened and Yuto stepped out with a towel wrapped around his entire midsection, clearly embarrassed as he rushed off to Wooseok’s room and locked the door behind him.

And even when Hwitaek walked back into Hyojong’s room and found Hyojong was asleep again, he couldn’t bring himself to say it outright. Not while Hyojong was still asleep. Instead, he laid down beside Hyojong again, pulling him into his arms and kissing him for each time he wanted to say, “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> ok ok but seriously i posted this without editing and i even caught myself mixing up hyojong's and hwitaek's names so pls,,, let me kno if u find typos i would appreciate it and will fix it asap.
> 
> tysm for reading i hope u liked this mess of awful terrible fluff to sate my huidawn heart ;;;;;; ♥♥♥
> 
> talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/iIyssssm) or [tumblr](http://ilyssssm.tumblr.com/)!!!


End file.
